Broke Down
by pagesix
Summary: Stranded in a small New England town, Andy Sachs must deal solo with Miranda Priestly. Part ONE of a 3 part series


Broke Down

* * *

"Nigel, this can't be happening."

"Six, it'll be alright."

"No! No, you don't understand. The car broke down. We are stuck in the middle of nowhere, America, in a town that has one bed and breakfast with a vacancy, one stop light, and only one repair shop that just happens to be closed until Monday. There are no car rental places, no livery services, not even a freakin' bus stop. And, Miranda said she won't leave her Porsche here without supervision. She won't let me call a car in to pick us up. Nigel, I am stuck here with Miranda Priestly for the entire weekend."

The panic in Andy's voice conveyed the enormity of the situation. The photo shoot scheduled in Cape Cod was already transpiring with Nigel at the helm. Miranda had, for completely undisclosed reasons, decided to drive her own car with Andy in tow to the location. They had departed New York city at four in the morning expecting to be at the site by ten am. It was now nine and Andy had finally been given the head nod to make the phone call.

"Andy, where exactly are you?"

"I don't know, Nigel. We're somewhere in Rhode Island, I think."

"That just doesn't make sense. Why would she not just order a car in and come up here? Then you can pick her car up on the way back."

"I don't know." Andy was practically sobbing in frustration. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I sent my laptop with you. All I have is a weekend bag with my clothes and stuff and my cell phone."

"I guess go for a lot of long walks."

"Maybe I should walk to the cape." Andy grumbled just as Miranda stepped out onto the porch to find her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Andréa. You would never make it in time."

Miranda's astute if not absurd observation made Andy choke on a very sarcastic reply. Choosing to ignore Miranda for a moment, she continued with Nigel. "Is there anything else besides my password you guys need?"

"At the moment, we're fine. I know how to reach you if anything comes up. You two have a lovely weekend."

"Right. See you next week, then. Bye Nigel."

Andy turned around to find Miranda leaning against the porch railing, watching her intently over a steaming cup of coffee. Taking a deep breath to cover her wracked nerves she inquired "Is there something you need, Miranda?"

The seconds ticked by as Miranda took a visual inventory of Andy from head to toe and back again. Just as Andy began to fidget she answered, "There are many things I need, Andréa, but very few you can provide."

"Oh, well, um… Is there something that I can do for you…?"

"You can relax. Obviously, we won't be getting any work done this weekend, so you may as well use the time to unwind. Think of it as a mini vacation."

"A mini…? Ok. I can do that." Andy's face was scrunched in a comical expression of utter confusion.

Miranda smirked, amused by Andy's unaffected charm. She covered her stumble into fondness with a sip of her coffee, breaking eye contact with the younger woman. Miranda's mind spun with her thoughts colliding like a nuclear fission chamber. When did she start having 'fond' thoughts about Andréa? Why was the girl's presence so calming? What right did she have to undress and redress the girl with her imagination as if she were a live dress up doll? Why was she doing that in the first place? And, why didn't she find it unnerving that she was doing it? Miranda was confounded by her thoughts and feelings. Derailing her own train of thought, she brought her focus back to her assistant.

"Andréa, I believe there is a beach about two blocks from here. Why don't you go and explore?"

Newly embarrassed, Andy responded, "Um… Miranda? I only packed for a working weekend. I don't exactly have clothes for the beach, or shoes for walking."

Scanning Andy's body one more time, Miranda confirmed the outfit she wore was in no way designed for traipsing around an ocean side vacation village. Andy was currently wrapped in a Donna Karan silk top and pencil skirt. Her 3.5 inch Giuseppe Zanotti pumps, although lower than usual work fare, were still too high to accommodate much mileage.

Pursing her lips in thought Miranda questioned, "Do you mean to tell me that you only packed 'work clothes'?"

"Well, yeah… uh, yes. We were going to be working this weekend. I didn't think that you would appreciate me showing up in Levis and Keds."

"Did you not think you would have any time to wander about on your own after work?"

"Um… I guess I just figured I would need to stay close. Be on call in case you needed something."

Miranda's eyes widened in wonder. "Andréa, you are not my personal slave. You are allowed time to yourself."

"I know. I just didn't think there would be much time with everything going on. Previous shoots have filled our time well past midnight. I didn't think this would be very different. I probably would have grabbed dinner with Nigel, but even then, we would have dressed."

"Mmm."

"I mean, even in Paris, when we were there for the entire week, I had maybe ten minutes of down time that I could spend in my pajamas. _Runway_ doesn't usually offer time."

"Perhaps we should do something to amend that. Tell me, did you at least bring something a little more comfortable? Slacks, perhaps?"

"Yeah," Andy admitted. "I did."

"Well, please go change. I do not want to be accused of spiteful torture."

"Oh, ok. Do you need anything before I go?"

"I believe I can sustain for ten minutes. Now go."

Andy disappeared through the screen door, leaving Miranda to her own devices.

* * *

The afternoon sun was close to uncomfortable, but the ceiling fans on the porch were making it tolerable for the two women reclining in the Adirondack chairs. Miranda's head was bowed over the book as she cut, pasted, and eviscerated the layout with precision. Andy had found a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ in the lodging house library and was suitably buried in the novel. The silence was occasionally interrupted by a car driving by, but as a whole, it was a rather peaceful atmosphere.

Andy's attention was pulled from the pages when a passing vehicle actually slowed and turned up the gravel drive. Raising her head to observe the interruption, she was lost in a cloud of confusion as the driver jumped from the van, gathered a stack of shopping bags from the back, and marched up directly to Miranda. Without so much as a 'by your leave', the bags were dropped at Miranda's feet and the driver hopped off the porch and drove off as if the devil was on his tail. The entire delivery took fifteen seconds.

Andy watched in stunned silence as Miranda leaned forward and took a cursory exam of the bag contents. With a muttered, "That should do nicely." Miranda turned her attention to Andy and quirked an eyebrow in expectation.

"What?" Andy asked, the question covering everything from 'what just happened?' to 'what did you do?'

"I expect you will find these a bit more comfortable than what you chose to bring for the weekend."

Miranda's tone included the unspoken 'had you used your head, you would have had casual clothes with you.' Andy simply sat unmoving in her chair, once again blind-sided by the reality of Miranda Priestly.

"Of course, if you would rather spend the next three days in professional attire…"

"What? Oh, no. I would much prefer… whatever is in those bags. I'm sure."

"Well, then…" Miranda's eyes widened just the tiniest bit, her mouth twitched, and her left eyebrow rose to pair up again with the right. All signs to Andy to get her ass in gear.

Andy pulled herself out of her chair and as she grabbed the bags in passing whispered, "Thank you."

* * *

After changing into much more casual fare, Andy took Miranda up on her earlier recommendation and headed out on foot to explore the sea side town. She discovered that, typically for August, the town beach was packed like sardines with sun worshipers. She also found a coffee shop that she came to believe, after her first sip, could actually rival Starbucks, and a couple of nicer seafood restaurants. It was the used books store she stumbled on however, that detained her for the whole of the afternoon. The ring tone of her phone broke her from her engrossed study and she politely left the building to take the call.

"Hi, Miranda…"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at 'One More Time' book store. Is there something you need?"

"Yes. Dinner."

"Oh, of course. I'll, um… I'll…"

"Did you find any place that resembles a restaurant? Perhaps something of a slightly higher class than "Cliff's Crab Shack"?"

"Oh, yes. I actually…"

"Please make accommodations for half an hour."

"Ok… Do you…" the line was dead. Andy trotted down the sidewalk to the Landmark Inn and stopped in line at the outdoor host pedestal. She was practically hopping in place when she finally got through the line. Procuring a reservation for Miranda, Andy called with the particulars. She turned back to the hostess to explain the reservation would apparently be for two when Miranda answered her with an exasperated, "Fine. Wait for me there."

Andy sat nervously at the bar. She could not tell if the clipped tone from Miranda meant she was pissed, irritated, hungry, or bored. She really wasn't thrilled to be a hostage to Miranda's moods. If only the damn car hadn't broken down, she would be happily enjoying dinner with Nigel, or even going out on her own. Now she was destined to be the sole dinner guest of _la Priestly_. Oh joy.

Miranda entered with the usual barometric nosedive. Even in some podunk little fishing town, Miranda Priestly still had the power to amaze all comers.

As soon as Andy heard the silence fall she rose from her barstool and moved to meet up with her boss. She silently handed Miranda a double scotch when the hostess greeted them and led them to their table. Feeling a bit like a sacrificial lamb, Andy sat silently, perusing the menu and gazing around the room, hoping Miranda would not tear into her for some imagined slight.

"Did you find anything interesting on your afternoon adventure, Andréa?"

"Not especially, no." Andy answered, her eyes wide in obvious shock.

"You were gone for a rather long time. I assumed you found yourself engrossed in some intriguing little boutique or other."

"Oh, well… I, um, did end up in that book store. I never could tear myself away from a stack of books. When I was a kid and went to the mall with my mom, she would just send me to the Border's Books and go off to do all her shopping."

Realizing she was rambling, Andy suddenly clamped her mouth shut and stared at her silverware. She was too stunned and embarrassed to look up at Miranda and missed the amused smirk on the older woman's face. Before the silence got too uncomfortable for Andy, the waitress arrived to take their order.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair with Miranda contentedly keeping her own counsel, and Andy watching the other diners. As Andy patiently waited for Miranda to finish the last of her wine, she suddenly realized she would be walking back to the Inn with Miranda. For some reason this seemed like an extremely intimate enterprise that ignited a flutter of nervousness in Andy's belly.

They emerged from the restaurant and turned towards "home". Andy subconsciously took the roadside position, protecting Miranda from oncoming traffic. Halfway through their journey, Miranda took a slight misstep and stumbled. Andy's arm was immediately around her waist to help steady her. Miranda offered a soft "Thank you" and as they continued on, she slipped her hand through the crook of Andy's elbow.

Andy was thankful the sun had already set since she could feel her face burning crimson. Her heart was thundering and her hands were beginning to sweat. It was bad enough having Miranda's hand resting against her skin, but the contact brought Miranda's entire body much closer to Andy's. Andy was convinced that Miranda could easily hear her racing heart.

When they finally arrived back at their hotel, Andy gallantly opened the door for Miranda and handed her through the threshold as she had witnessed her father doing with her mother so many times.

Miranda caught Andy's eye as she passed and gave her a very slight smile of thanks. Other than Miranda's 'thank you' on the street, no words were uttered from the restaurant all the way to the doors of their neighboring rooms.

As Andy pushed her room door open she heard Miranda's soft "Good night." Turning to respond, she found the hall empty and Miranda's door already closed.

* * *

Andy awoke with a start. Something wasn't right. She didn't know what woke her, but it wasn't a natural occurrence. Sitting up in her bed, she concentrated, trying to hear something that might have interrupted her sleep. Suddenly, she heard a soft knock on her door that actually sounded impatient. She slipped from the bed and shuffled across the rug to crack the door open. There in the hallway, dressed in a bathrobe, but in bare feet, stood Miranda. Andy pulled the door open wide and fell right into assistant mode.

"Miranda? Is there something you need?"

"The air conditioner in my room is broken and it is too stifling to sleep"

"Oh, um… do you want me to find someone to fix it?"

"No, Andréa. It is two o'clock in the morning. Who do you think in this town will be awake to fix an air conditioner?"

"Oh. Right. Um… then what is it you wanted me to do?"

"I believe yours is in working order?"

"Well, yeah."

"And I believe your room has a bed large enough for two?"

"You…uh… you mean you want to share?"

"I assure you I do not have 'cooties'."

"No, of course not. I never… umm… It's only a double bed. Not even queen size."

"Just how much room do you need to sleep?"

"That's not… I don't… forget it. Come on in." Andy gave up, exasperated that her half asleep mind could not come up with a good enough reason to keep Miranda out of her bed. The more troubling thought was how much Andy actually wanted Miranda in her bed. If she thought the walk home was going to make her faint, this sudden predicament would definitely put her in her grave.

As the door closed, Miranda turned to meet Andy on her return to the bed. "I sleep on the left side. Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all. I usually just stretch across the middle, so I'm flexible when sharing." she gushed.

"Good."

Miranda climbed into bed, and without another word, rolled to her side and snuggled into the covers to sleep.

Andy cautiously sat on her side of the bed and tried to slip under the covers without moving the mattress. She lay flat out on her back against the very edge of the bed, and pulled the covers up tightly under her chin. Holding her breath, she listened as Miranda breathed. She jumped slightly when Miranda offered a gruff "Good night, Andréa"

"Good night," Andy squeaked back.

* * *

Andy was awakened again at four am. This time she did not need to puzzle out what had caused her to stir. As soon as her mind became conscious she deduced the cause of her sleep's disruption. Miranda had shifted, and in the cold of the air conditioned room, had blindly sought out Andy's body heat. Now, Andy was faced with a very difficult decision. Pretend she never awoke and try to return to sleep with a very soft, very warm Miranda Priestly wrapped around her. Or, try to disentangle herself and crawl out of bed to spend the remainder of the night sitting in the uncomfortable, under-stuffed armchair.

Exhaustion and emotional stress beat out propriety, so Andy remained in their snug little cocoon, choosing to pretend nothing happened and that the visions now playing in her mind's eye were completely normal side effects to having another human body pressed so tightly against her own. She briefly had a fleeting hope that she would not end up talking in her sleep through a Miranda based erotic dream. With any luck, any possible somnolent rambling that might be overheard by Miranda, would mercifully be forgotten, or at least forgiven.

When Andy next awoke she was alone. The sunlight spilled through the curtains, creeping up the bed to shine in her eyes, forcing her to squint at the clock to read the time. 7:30.

Andy fell back into her pillow, losing the battle against gravity. Rolling to her side, she pulled Miranda's pillow across the bed, burying her face in the softness. The light scent of Miranda's perfume clouded around Andy's head, making her a little dizzy. Snuggling in deeper, she allowed herself the luxury of dozing for a few more moments with visions of Miranda flashing through her mind.

Andy finally dragged her reluctant body out of bed at eight. After a quick run to the bathroom, she was dressed and presentable within fifteen minutes. Stumbling down the stairs at a run, she found coffee and pastries still available in the dining room. Grabbing a cup and an apple muffin she ventured outside to find Miranda lounging on the bench swing on the front porch.

"Well, you finally decided to join the land of the living."

"Good morning, Miranda. Did you sleep well?" Andy asked, her cheeks suddenly inflamed.

"Aside from the obvious difficulties early on, I would say I had an adequate rest."

"Oh, good."

"Andréa, I would like you to use my lap top and check through the e-mails this morning. I do not want you getting too far behind the queue."

"Oh, ok."

"Then, after you are finished, I want you to take me to that book shop you were so enamored with yesterday."

"Oh?"

"I was thinking of finding something for the girls."

"Oh, sure. They have a really wonderful collection for young adults. You should easily find a good selection."

* * *

The walk to the main strip was pleasant. Andy had been able to relax emotionally once she fell back into the role of assistant and had a job to do. Although Miranda chose not to talk during the excursion, she also did not repeat her actions of holding Andy's arm from the previous night. The physical distance helped Andy maintain her equilibrium enough that when Miranda asked her to make a detour to the coffee house, she was able to immediately adjust her direction without hesitation.

The sun was well past its zenith when Miranda's voice broke through Andy's silent concentration, "We are going to lunch, Andréa."

"Oh. Right. I'm…uh… I'm coming." Andy got out as she juggled the stack of books she had been considering.

Miranda demonstrated unequaled patience as she waited quietly while Andy purchased her final selection. Miranda deemed their dinner restaurant acceptable, so they returned to sample their lunch menu. Although not in an overtly conversational mood, Miranda did not seem to be bothered by Andy's attempts over baked stuffed sole and almond encrusted trout.

"Were you able to find some things for the girls?"

"Yes."

"Do you need me to go back and pick them up?" Andy asked since Miranda obviously was not carrying any packages.

"No. The lovely gentleman at the store has agreed to send them to the office."

"Oh. That's great. I should have thought of that." Andy laughed, considering the two bags full of books she currently had at her feet. Not wanting to push her luck and piss Miranda off, Andy decided to discontinue her attempts of verbally entertaining Miranda. As the silence wore on, Andy found she was not getting nervous or anxious. She actually relaxed into the feeling of camaraderie that seemed to be developing between them.

This afternoon the return stroll to the bed and breakfast did not see any of the physical intimacy of the previous night. Inversely, Miranda marched down the road with Andy trotting along in her wake. Once they arrived at the guest house, Miranda continued up to her room while Andy went in search of an update on the repair of Miranda's air conditioner.

Finding their host, Andy was informed that the unit had a blown compressor. Although it would be repaired, the part would not be on hand for a week, and, no, there were no replacement units available unless Andy wanted to donate her own.

Andy trudged up the stairs as if her life were forfeit, convinced Miranda would decide to kill the messenger. Andy pushed the door open to Miranda's slightly miffed "Come in, Andréa", only to freeze in open mouthed astonishment at the sight of Miranda stretched out on the bed in only her bra and slip. Without opening her eyes Miranda inquired, "Well?"

"They… um…won't be able to fix it until next week" Andy replied, her eyes closed tightly against the unbearably erotic vision Miranda presented. "I'll be out of my room in ten minutes then I can move your things to my room if you'd like me to."

"Don't be ridiculous, Andréa. We are not going to switch rooms. I won't have you suffering in here. You wouldn't be able to sleep and I will need you well rested for our return. We will have too much work to catch up on for you to be falling asleep at your desk. We will just have to share for the remainder of our stay."

"Oh, um… ok?" Andy half-heartedly agreed. "Do you… would you like help moving your sss..uh… luggage?" Andy caught the smirk on Miranda's face at her near faux pas.

"Leave it here. I'm paying for the room so I might as well use it. I just can't sleep in here."

"Oh, well, here. Here's the key to my room." Andy fished the key from her bag and moved to drop it on the bedside table. The closer proximity to Miranda caused Andy's mind to trip over itself and a bright blush began to creep up her chest. "You can go rest, if you want. I…um.. I have to go make some phone calls. So, uh, I'll be outside. On the front porch. If you need anything." Andy backed herself against the door and was momentarily stuck as she forgot how to work a door knob.

"Yes, yes. Go do whatever it is you do." Miranda waved her out as she pulled herself to a sitting position on the side of the bed, her bare toes just touching the carpet.

Andy gulped at the sight. When Miranda raised her arms over her head in a back arching stretch, Andy whimpered and turned to fight with the door to make her escape. Slipping out of the room, Andy headed for the stairs at a run, her phone in her hand and her thumb hitting speed dial before she caught the first step down.

* * *

"Good afternoon, this is Douglas Webster, how may I help you."

"Dougie, I am in BIG trouble!"

"Andy?"

"Doug, you know how you and Lily, and, well, everybody has been teasing me about having a crush on Miranda?"

"Well, yeah. It's pretty obvious."

"Dougie, it isn't a crush. It's worse. I am not merely enthralled with the power and beauty of my boss, Doug… I want to fuck her."

"What?!"

"Seriously Doug. I want to sex her up like there's no tomorrow. Jesus. Doug, what am I going to do? I can't work with her anymore. Every time I look at her I just want to climb her. Dougie, this is so bad."

"Why is this suddenly a problem now? What happened?"

"The car broke down. We're stuck in some god forsaken village in Rhode Island. And now I have to share my room with her for the rest of the weekend. Two nights Doug. I have to have her in my bed for two nights. What the hell am I going to do?"

"Sleeping pills."

"Where am I going to get sleeping pills? Doug, this is serious."

"Honey, I can't do anything from here. I'm stuck at work today. Tomorrow, I'm flying to Dallas for that seminar I told about. I could call Lily, but what can she do? She doesn't drive. Where's Nigel?"

"He's up at the photo shoot. The one I'm _supposed_ to be at."

"I could call Nate. He might be able to come get you."

"Don't be absurd. I am not about to call my ex-boyfriend to get me out of this mess."

"Ok, good. At least that got you sounding a little saner. Now calm down. Think, Andy. Are you really going to lose control? Cause I seriously doubt it."

"But, Dougie…" Andy had regressed to whining like a first grader.

"No, Andy. I do not believe you can't pull yourself together and get through this weekend. Once you aren't in this particular situation, I'm sure you'll be able to return to normal."

"But, Doug," Andy tried again. "You don't understand. She touched me."

"I'm sorry, she did _what_ now?"

"She linked her arm through mine on the way home from dinner last night. Doug, I could hardly breathe. And then, she came into my room because her air conditioner died, and she slept with me. In the same bed. And I woke up in the middle of the night and she was practically on top of me. Doug, I almost came in my shorts."

"Oh, sweetie, you really have it bad. I'm so sorry you're being tortured. But, it really isn't enough of a reason for me to blow off my job and drive up to Rhode Island. Sorry, babe."

"Dougie.."

"Oops, gotta go. The boss man cometh. Call me later to let me know what happens. Love ya."

"Doug?… Doug!" Andy hit "end call" and dropped her hands to her sides. Turning her face to the cloudless sky she helplessly cursed, "God damn it." She froze in terror at the sound of Miranda's voice right behind her.

"I do hope that had nothing to do with the photo shoot."

Quickly struggling to get her emotions gathered, Andy closed her eyes and responded in what she hoped was a normal voice. "No. That was more of a personal matter. The last I heard from Nigel, the shoot was going along smoothly. He said they might even have it finished by end of day today." Swallowing the last of her fear, she turned to face her downfall. "Was there something you needed, Miranda?"

"No. I'm just going for a walk. Would you care to join me?"

"Oh, um, no, thank you. I still have some calls to make. I don't think you'd enjoy a walk with me chattering on the phone the whole time. You go ahead."

"Very well. While you're on the phone, perhaps you can arrange dinner? Say, around 8:00?"

"Oh, sure. The same place?"

"Whatever you think is best."

Andy stared at Miranda's back as the woman descended the steps and headed down the walkway. " _un-freakin'-believable_ ", she thought as Miranda took a right turn and marched away.

* * *

Andy spent an hour working, confirming appointments, rearranging the calendar, and obtaining a recommendation and reservation for dinner. The rest of the afternoon she buried herself in her book, hoping the fictional world would give her a refuge from her reality. It wasn't until the sun dipped below the tree line that Andy realized how late it was getting. Miranda hadn't returned and they were due at the restaurant in forty minutes. Andy decided it was best to call and deal with Miranda's ire over the phone rather than in person.

"Yes, Andréa?" The cool tones filtered through the phone, sending a shiver down Andy's spine.

"Um, hi, Miranda. I was wondering where you were. I made dinner reservations at a place called _Casco's,_ down by the beach…"

"How fortuitous." Miranda responded, her words sounding slightly slurred. "I have been here for the last two hours."

"Wait, what? You're already at _Casco's_?"

"That is what I said."

"But how?… when?… "

"Who, where, and why usually follow. Do not keep me waiting, Andréa."

The voice now sounded clear and concise. There was no question.

Andy's mind snapped back to militant order and she responded in her usual assistant modulation, "Of course, Miranda. I'll be right there."

Andy made very good time, stepping through the door of the restaurant in only thirty minutes. She paused to take in her surroundings.

The building was actually a converted barn. A large open area and a loft for dining simply glowed in polished wood and soft lighting. The white linen covered tables were each surrounded by a hodge-podge of chairs that appeared to be refurbished collections from second hand stores.

Andy easily spotted the doors to the kitchen and to the restrooms, and she noted a banister in the back corner past the bar that obviously led to a basement stairwell. Once familiar with the layout, Andy scanned the assembly of diners in search of Miranda.

Andy was already on her way to the loft stairway, since she would have easily noticed her boss amidst the throng. She spotted Miranda at the table in the back corner, farthest away from view. Apparently, Miranda was in the mood for privacy tonight.

Andy approached silently and observed as Miranda sat back in her chair with her eyes closed, appreciating the sounds of the live jazz trio playing on the main floor. After allowing herself a moment to admire Miranda's natural beauty, Andy pulled a chair out to announce her presence.

"Hello, Miranda. I hope I'm not too late."

Miranda's eyes opened slowly and scanned down Andy's body. An equally lazy smile tugged at her lips as she beatifically offered, "If being late means you will always present in this manner, then late you will always be."

Andy's brows immediately scrunched in confusion and concern. Noting the somewhat hazy eyes and the near empty wine glass, Andy rapidly did the math and questioned Miranda. "Have you been here all afternoon drinking?"

"No. Of course not." Miranda tried to conjure her tyrannical dragon demeanor, but all she could manage was a petulant denial. "I have only been here for half the afternoon. And I have only been sampling the wines. I am not some bar toad."

"I think the term is barfly. Have you eaten anything?"

"Don't you think that would be a bit rude since I have been waiting for you to join me?"

"Oh, well thanks, I think. Why don't we go ahead and order. Do you know what you would like?"

"I always know what I like. And our dinner is already on order. We have all just been awaiting your arrival."

Even on her way to a good drunk, Miranda could easily argue the gold from a leprechaun. Andy sighed in defeat and waited. Miranda caught the eyes of their waitress and plates of food miraculously arrived. Miranda had apparently conferred with the owner and the chef and convinced them to put together a tasting menu to match with some of their finer wines.

As the taste of seafood stuffed mushroom exploded in Andy's mouth, Miranda leaned across the table and conspiratorially whispered, "I promised them a small recognition in _Runway_ for accommodating me. You will need to pay attention. Perhaps, you should take notes."

"What?" Andy almost spewed her morsel across the table. "You want _me_ to write an article?"

"Well, it doesn't need to be an entire article. Just a note or two, really."

"Miranda, do you hear what you're saying?"

"Don't be silly, Andréa. Of course I can hear myself. I haven't suddenly gone deaf. I can easily hear you, too. Please tone it down."

"Sorry. But, you're saying you want me to write for _Runway_."

"Yes, yes. Now let's get past this. Mmm, you should try the artichoke crostino."

Andy spent the rest of their dinner in a fog of ambiguity. Excitement at the prospect of a chance to write was undercut by the doubt Miranda would even remember anything from the evening come morning. However, Andy did actually make notes on a slip of paper procured from the bar tender.

After dinner, dessert, and a special coffee per Miranda's insistence, they were finally heading out to the street at midnight. Miranda refused the offer of a cab, arguing the night was too beautiful to waste in a smelly, filthy rent-a-wreck.

Andy tensed when Miranda's hand once again slipped around her arm as she leaned heavily into Andy's side when they were no more than two steps from the restaurant's door.

As they proceeded with their midnight stroll, Andy noticed Miranda's weight lessened as she easily navigated the irregularities of the walkway. The woman still refused to release Andy's arm, but Andy was pretty sure she was not in the least dependent on Andy's assistance.

The heavy scent of low tide mingling with a light fog rolled down the main street surrounding the pair, offering them a thin veil of privacy in the middle of town. Miranda shifted closer to Andy as a damp chill crawled up her back.

"Miranda? Are you all right?"

"Of course." Miranda answered the worried tone with one of light winsomeness and a quick squeeze of her hand.

Andy smiled and impulsively covered Miranda's hand with her own. In an autonomic response, Miranda's free hand rose and rested snuggly with Andy's, the action pulling their bodies even closer together. The remainder of their trek was made in companionable silence and, for Andy, increasing heat.

Miranda finally released Andy once they stepped over the threshold of the front door. She started up the stairs towards their rooms, but stopped midway when she realized Andy was not behind her. Glancing over her shoulder she could make out Andy's silhouette in the glow form the porch light.

"What are you doing?" Miranda's voice dropped into an icy demand.

"I was just going to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Do you want anything?" Andy used her supplicating, assistant voice to undermine Miranda's sudden irritation.

"Yes, a glass of water would be welcome." Miranda dismissed Andy to do her bidding and continued up the stairway.

Andy stayed frozen in place, observing Miranda's very steady ascent until the woman disappeared into the shadows. Running her hands through her hair in an unconscious display of frustration, Andy finally moved to complete her "assignment". Intentionally taking her time, Andy slowly climbed the stairs, hoping Miranda would already be asleep when she reached the room.

Andy silently pushed into the room only to be stopped in surprise at the sight of Miranda sitting up in bed concentrating on her cell phone. Andy placed a glass of water on the bedside table to a barely whispered "thank you" before heading back out to the bathroom. Returning to the room ready for bed, Andy stopped a sigh of relief at finding Miranda burrowed under the blankets, apparently asleep. She crawled into bed and froze as she stretched for the light switch when Miranda's voice cut through the silence. "Bradley Gorrick will be expecting a copy of your gastronomic review on Wednesday morning. Please try to keep it concise. That's all."

In response, Andy flipped the switch, plunging the room into blackness. Safe from visibility, she allowed a grin to spread across her face. She was practically vibrating from excitement when she heard a final whispered order from the other side of the bed.

"Control yourself, Andréa. I am trying to sleep."

"Yes, Miranda."

* * *

The early morning hours clearly held Miranda in some sort of physical connectivity spell. At least that was what Andy deduced when she was once again pulled from REM sleep by the solid heat of Miranda against her back.

Andy groaned in aggravation, punching her pillow as Miranda's arm slid around her waist, pulling her with unimaginable strength against welcoming softness. Andy's body locked up, her breath stopped and her heart skipped a beat or two when she felt the unmistakable brush of lips at the back of her neck. Andy whimpered an "oh god" as Miranda settled again with a sigh that tickled the hair at the nape of Andy's neck. Afraid to make a move, Andy eventually drifted back to sleep, only to be tortured in her dreams by a phantom lover with Miranda's eyes.

Andy awoke alone again, the cloud filtered sunlight barely casting shadows across the room. Andy stretched, enjoying her moment of solitude and contemplating the fact she was more exhausted after the last two nights sleeping alongside Miranda Priestly than when she would stay up late and totter into work on only two hours of sleep.

She rubbed the sleepiness from her face and fell out of bed. After a quick shower, and dressed in another Miranda supplied outfit, Andy hunted up a cup of coffee and located Miranda on "their" front porch. Andy cringed when she heard Miranda's voice as the woman conversed with someone on the phone.

"What do you mean he _destroyed_ them?"

"I don't know, Miranda. He had an attack of artistic piety and declared the entire shoot reprehensible and then erased everything. He even trashed the flash drive copy. I can't work like this, Miranda." Nigel complained.

"No one can. Fire that ass and get a replacement, today."

"Who do you want?" Nigel asked, amazed to think Miranda could get someone this last minute.

"I'll have Andréa deal with that. You just remove that hack from the premises, by force if need be. Be sure to inform him his career is now nonexistent. That's all." Miranda slapped her phone closed and, without even turning, addressed Andy, "We need a photographer, today. Find someone."

"Right. Do you need a coffee?" Andy offered, holding a steaming cup out to Miranda's back. Miranda turned slowly, making Andy feel like she was watching a suspense thriller.

Andy witnessed the physical transformation as Miranda's anger was internalized and a moment of relief washed over her visage. Miranda took the offering and after a long, mouth burning sip, schooled her features to her usual emotional blankness and actually thanked Andy.

Andy could feel the blush rush to her face as she lowered her eyes and dragged out her phone. "I'll, um, just get on that." she muttered and turned to do Miranda's bidding.

Miranda turned her attention to discrediting the hack of a photographer who had just shot himself in the foot. After twenty minutes, she was interrupted by Andy's presence beside her. Ending her current conversation, Miranda turned to Andy with eyebrow arched, waiting for confirmation.

"I reached Del Torres, he's done more work with inanimate subjects, but I've seen his portfolio before and I think you'll find his work acceptable. He isn't a big name, obviously, but he is available and willing, and he's just up in Boston. He can get to the location much faster than anyone out of New York at this point."

"So you think you know my mind enough to tell me to whom I should give a career making assignment?" Miranda asked with the "spider to the fly" edge that made Andy gulp.

"No, of course not, but you need someone right now. It's not like I called the local wedding photographers. Del has had a series of successful showings with his work. Nigel even has one of his prints hanging in his apartment."

"Really." Miranda deadpanned.

"Well, yeah. I mean, ok, I gave it to him as a Christmas present, but he did hang it up."

"I guess that's the only seal of approval I need."

Andy chose to stop. She knew she would never really win in this arena against Miranda, so she clamped her mouth shut tightly, and tried to focus on the glowing ember of anger in her heart instead of the smell of Miranda's perfume. Taking a deep breath to control her voice, Andy asked, "Do you want him, or not?"

"What choice do I have? It isn't as if Testino is going to miraculously appear to save our collective asses. Confirm with Mr. Torres. Perhaps he will even be able to beat the impending rain."

* * *

Andy made the call and for the rest of her day she was sitting on pins and needles, waiting to hear something from Nigel. The expected call finally came at 6:30pm. Andy didn't realize she was holding her breath until she actually felt light headed. Sucking in a fresh lungful, she refocused on Miranda's end of the call.

"If you have called to tell me bad news, I suggest you hang up now."

"No, Miranda. It actually went surprisingly well. Our Andy came through with flying colors. I'm sending you copies so check your inbox. I think you'll want to keep Mr. Torres on your call list. He accomplished in four hours what Kyle Carson could not achieve in twenty. We definitely struck gold, here."

"Send the file. And, Nigel… Thank you for seeing this through."

"My pleasure, Miranda. See you when you get back from nowhere land."

"Yes." Miranda lost herself in thought, forgetting that Andy was lurking behind her, waiting for a potential end to her own career. Andy, unable to contain her worry any longer gently imposed herself, "Um, Miranda? Is there anything…"

"It's fine, Andréa. Or at least Nigel says it is. Get me my lap top."

Miranda's transition to 'dragon lady' helped to shore Andy up. Andy would never admit it, but an angry, controlling, evil Miranda Priestly, in truth, gave her a sense of relief. There was never a question how things stood when Miranda was at her post. Andy ran to the room to retrieve the requested computer. She was already powering it up as she descended the stairs again.

Miranda waited almost patiently while Andy brought up the information they were waiting for. Passing the notebook over to Miranda, Andy remained standing at her shoulder, ready to act on any possible instructions.

Miranda perused the images quickly, then went back to study them with an extremely critical eye. In less than five minutes, Miranda was finished. She opened her phone and dialed. As soon as her connection went through she ordered, "Use the third for the opening. Follow it with five, eleven and twenty-three. Four full pages. You know what fonts to use. By Tuesday. That's all."

Andy sighed in relief.

Miranda momentarily lost control of herself and allowed an amused smirk to pass as she gave the laptop back to Andy.

Andy was just about to step through the door when Miranda asked, "Should we try something different or return to _Casco's_?"

"Um… whatever you prefer, Miranda."

"Don't play it safe, Andréa. You have earned an opinion today. Where would you like to dine?"

"I really enjoyed _Casco's_."

"Fair enough. Make the reservation."

"Yes, Miranda."

* * *

At the dinner table, Andy pulled her note pad form her bag, jotting down thoughts as she relived the dining experience. Unlike the previous night's special circumstance, they ordered only what was offered on the menu. Even so, Andy was duly impressed with the fare and spent much of her evening constructing her review. Miranda was suitably amused by Andy's diligence. Happy to forgo conversation in favor of the exceptional live music, Miranda simply sat back to enjoy her wine and her view.

Andy was pondering adjectives for her dessert when she abruptly realized she had ignored Miranda through the entire dinner.

"Oh, Miranda, I am so sorry."

"Whatever for?" Miranda queried, truly confused.

"I haven't said a single word to you since we sat down. That is so incredibly rude of me. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've found this to be an enjoyable and relaxing evening. No apology is necessary."

"But…"

"Just have your work in on time and we'll be even." Miranda smiled.

Andy placed her fork down, sat back heavily and self-deprecatingly commented, "Whoa, I guess I overdid it tonight. I probably shouldn't have had the pie. I probably won't fit in any of my clothes tomorrow."

"Nonsense. One meal here or there will not ruin your starvation diet." Miranda quirked, "Though, now that we've brought it up; why have you been losing weight? You already wear a four beautifully. Any smaller and you'll begin to look anorexic."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, thank you. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Miranda's eyes rolled in irritation at that comment. "I haven't been trying to lose weight. I just… well, we work so hard, and we don't always have time… I just…"

"Well, stop it. I do not want you dropping another size. If I find you shrinking any more I will be sorely disappointed."

"So, does that mean I can keep M&Ms in my desk?"

"Don't be absurd. I expect you to make healthy choices. Take forty minutes for lunch from now on so you can eat something."

"Ok. Do you want anything else?" Andy asked, trying to shed the focus. Miranda caring about her in any capacity was too overwhelming an idea. Being granted favors was unheard of and would most likely cause quite the stir at Elias-Clarke. This was probably worse than being allowed to share the elevator.

"No. I am finished for tonight. Shall we?"

"Um, yes. Absolutely."

* * *

Andy stretched out on her back, staring at the streetlamp shadows playing across the ceiling. Miranda was breathing deeply next to her, already lost to her dreams. Andy's mind would not let her settle into sleep. Her thoughts continuously circled, replaying the weekend events, the words spoken to her, and the feelings that were growing rapidly.

' _Miranda has been oddly nice this weekend. What does it mean? And why did she reach out to me? Touching me? Miranda does not touch people affectionately. Was it really affectionately? Maybe she just does that. But I can't imagine her ever holding an assistant's arm. And the comments about my weight… where did those come from? Has she really been watching me… monitoring my weight? And let's not even get into the night time activities. She's probably not even aware that she's been snuggling into me. It must be a purely instinctual habit. Maybe she's just lonely for physical contact since she split from Stephen. It does NOT have anything to do with me, directly. I'm simply a warm body in the bed. She would probably cuddle with Patricia. Oh god. I'm not gonna be able to go on like this. I should probably give my notice. But she just offered me a trial, didn't she? I'm sure this review is a test. If it's good enough, maybe she'll start giving me other writing projects. Is she going to groom me for editorial? Or was this all a fluke and I'll just be chasing hot coffee for the rest of my life.'_

Andy turned to gaze at her tormentor. Peaceful in sleep, Miranda did not look like she had the power to hurt anyone. She was simply beautiful. Andy rolled to her side to allow herself comfort in her pining.

' _Just look at her. God, she's more beautiful like this than even her gala productions. What would I give for her to see me, really see me? Imagine if she thought I was beautiful, too. If she had any feelings for me. Does she have any clue to what I feel for her? Does she know I care? Does she know I would take a bullet for her? Ha, her own secret service agent. There was an assassination attempt on President Priestly today that was effectively aborted by her first assistant, Andrea Sachs. Miss Sachs is in critical condition but is expected to make a recovery. She did need a heart transplant, though. Apparently there was too much damage from unrequited love.'_

Andy knew as her thoughts began to devolve into complete nonsense that she was beyond exhausted. If only sleep would come. Along with exhaustion came the inability to censor her actions as well as a loss of awareness. As Andy's eyes slipped closed her hand involuntarily reached out, tracing the face of her bedmate.

Miranda's eyes popped open, fully awake as Andy's hand fell to rest along her cheek. She also heard Andy's mumbling of "unrequited love" as Andy was finally able to give up the fight to remain awake.

Miranda's heart pounded, thunder to her ears. What had she just witnessed? Was it Andy's thoughts about her or was she talking in her sleep about someone completely unknown? Miranda closed her eyes tightly and clasped onto Andy's hand, wishing for the former to be true. As Miranda squeezed Andy's hand Andy half awoke, squeezed back and murmured "Miranda."

Miranda now had a chance to openly observe. She waited in the dark for Andy to succumb fully to sleep.

' _What am I doing? Enamored with a mere girl half my age. I can just hear my ex-husbands now… 'well, that explains everything..' What bastards. Andréa, what am I going to do with you? I loathe the idea of your leaving, but I cannot keep you on forever. It is coming time for you to move on. Can I convince you to stay on with Runway? Perhaps we can consider a move to editorial. But I want you to be able to write. I know it is your true desire. Maybe we should just send you to Harper's or that awful Rolling Stone magazine. Or, perhaps I can keep you at Runway and help you to break into freelance work. Despite your protestations, I really don't think you would be happy at a newspaper. I don't think I am ready to lose you, Andréa. I really prefer my life with you in it. And, somehow, I do not think you would be willing to be a part of my life on the personal level. If only…'_

Andy rolled onto her back with a small snort. Miranda smiled mirthlessly. ' _yes, it is rather hilarious. Glad you find it amusing. But if we had time working together professionally, perhaps we could develop a friendship of sorts. A long arduous prospect, I know. After all, I try to bring a smile to your face and nine out of ten times I get that furrowed brow of utter doubt and confusion. A 'nice dragon' is truly a paradox.'_

Miranda scooted closer to Andy. The warmth emanating from the lanky brunette was entirely intoxicating. Throwing caution to the wind, Miranda slid against the nubile body, wrapping arm and leg around the personification of her feelings.

' _If she awakens, I will claim that any untoward actions on my behalf were simply unconscious actions. Seeking comfort in sleep is not a crime, no matter how embarrassing.'_

A minor decision made. Miranda tucked her face into Andy's neck, and breathing deeply of the unique scent, allowed herself to drift off to sleep once again.

* * *

Monday morning broke with the threatening rain. The clouds burst and released a heavy, steady soaking. Andy remained in bed until the unforgivable hour of 8:30. Although she had only two glasses of wine the evening before, she felt as if she had polished off two bottles on her own. Her head ached, and she was convinced she was about to experience her first ever migraine. Locking herself in the bathroom, she gave in to her generic lethargy and stood under the steaming spray for forty minutes. The sound of someone at the door roused her form her doldrums and she began to wash her hair.

An hour later, Andy finally stumbled down the stairs in search of Miranda. She found her in the front sitting room, absently turning the pages of a magazine. Standing in front of her boss like a private in front of a general, Andy waited silently to be noticed.

"Is there any particular reason you have decided to waste half the morning on a day you are supposed to be working?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I might be coming down with something. Is there anything you needed, Miranda?"

Miranda took a moment to appraise Andy. She was dressed in her work "uniform", high heels, snug pencil skirt and a keyhole top. But even the generous application of foundation could not help her sallow complexion. Her eyes were dark, listless and a little watery.

"Come here." Miranda directed.

Andy shuffled around the coffee table, getting within Miranda's personal space doing so.

"Bend down." Miranda again commanded once Andy was next to her. She touched the back of her hand against Andy's forehead as the woman came into reach. "Oh for the… You have a fever." Miranda's voice was full of irritation, but Andy could detect a touch of concern and possibly even a note of fear. "Go back to the room and lie down. I don't want to see you again until we are ready to leave."

"Yes, Miranda."

* * *

Andy next awoke to the feel of someone rubbing her back. Snuggling deeper under the covers she kept her eyes closed tightly against the general feeling of sickness that had taken over. She was hot and cold, sweating against the chills. Her body ached and her head felt like it was going to explode. Her eyes felt like they were full of sandpaper, and she was concerned about the rolling of her stomach. She whimpered when she heard Miranda's "mom voice" speaking to her through the thickness of her brain.

"Andréa, you need to get up. We have to leave now. The car is here and we're all packed. Do you think you can get up for me?"

"I don' wanna."

"Whether you want to or not, we have to leave. Come along now. You can sleep again in the car."

Andy panicked when she felt the covers being peeled from her body. Grabbing at the edge of the sheet she pulled back. "No. I'm undressed."

"Andréa, I think I have seen a fair share of naked women in my time. You don't have anything I haven't seen."

"Please, Miranda. I'll get up. I promise."

"Fine. But hurry up. I'd prefer not to drive at night in the rain."

Andy rolled from the bed as soon as she heard the door close. Pulling her clothes on, she realized Miranda had set out a much more comfortable outfit than what she originally had on for the day. As she buttoned up the blouse she remembered what Miranda had said. The car was already packed. Had Miranda done it or did she have someone do the menial labor for her? Either way, she allowed Andy to sleep through it all. Definitely strange behavior for the she-devil.

Once settled in the car, Miranda handed Andy a blanket. To Andy's questioning expression Miranda answered, "I keep it in the car. It's in the emergency kit. Now keep warm." And that was that. There was no more conversation on the drive back to Manhattan.

Miranda was concentrating on the wet roads and Andy was softly snoring. The hum of the wheels on the highway was a white noise that helped Andy stay asleep. When they merged onto FDR drive, an insidious pot hole pounded the car and jarred Andy awake. Rubbing at her right eye, she squinted through the windshield with the left to gain her bearings. Hopeless, she turned to Miranda, "Where are we?"

"We are almost home. How are you feeling?"

"Like death warmed over. You should have just dumped me out on the highway."

"And what would that accomplish? There would be an investigation into your disappearance and I would get all tied up in red tape. I don't have time for that. Besides, you haven't suitably trained up a replacement yet."

"Good to know you care."

"More than you'll ever know", Miranda whispered reverently. Andy stared, speechless from the admission.

When Miranda turned onto 71st avenue Andy questioned her again. "Where are we going?"

"I am going home. I have already called for a car to pick you up there and take you where you need to go."

"Oh." Andy felt desolate which was enhanced by her compromised health

They arrived at the townhouse to find a car already waiting in front of the home. Miranda chose to double park to transfer Andy over to the town car. To Andy's relief the familiar form of Roy climbed out of the car to meet them.

Miranda met him by the trunk to direct him to Andy's luggage, as if he wouldn't have been able to tell. With the bags transferred and Andy ensconced in the back seat, Miranda slipped back behind the wheel of the Porsche and moved it on to the garage. Andy stared glumly out the window as Roy deftly wove through the streets of Manhattan heading for Brooklyn.

"So, how was the photo shoot?" Roy enquired good-naturedly.

"Don't know. Never made it." Andy confessed.

"Wow, really?. What happened?"

"Car broke down. Stranded in Rhode Island."

"Whoa. Terrifying."

"You said it."

"So what's up with you now? You don't sound yourself. She didn't fire you did she?"

"Are you kidding? If she fired me she would have made me find my own way home."

"True, that."

"Nah. Not fired. Just sick."

"Oh man. That sucks. Are you contagious?"

"No clue. But expect so."

"Hope she doesn't get it. She's at her worst when ill."

"Don't I know it."

Conversation died off for the rest of the drive. Andy was beyond grateful for the ride. Struggling on the subway with luggage was bad enough. But to try it while sick would have been unbearable.

Roy hauled Andy's luggage in for her before leaving her to her own devices. After locking the door behind him, Andy immediately went to plug her phone in to recharge. She realized late on Sunday that the phone had died and her alternate charger was packed with her laptop, secure in Nigel's possession.

She made a cup of tea and some dry toast, and then checked her messages. The first text she noted was from Miranda. Opening it she smiled at the concern behind the words.

'You will not return to the office while you are ill. I do not want to see you before Thursday, at the earliest. That's all"

Other messages were left from her parents, Nigel, Doug and Emily. She sent a quick text to three of them stating she was home, she was sick, and she would contact them later. Nigel, she called.

"Hello"

"Hey, Nigel. Are you back?"

"Andy, good to hear you survived the weekend. Of course, Miranda must be thrilled with your three pointer in the final seconds. So how does the golden child fare?"

Miserably. I'm sick as a dog. Fever, aches, the works. And I am pulling out all my reserves to pray Miranda doesn't end up with it."

"Oh, don't even speak of such atrocities. Do you need anything, six? Some Chicken soup, perhaps?"

"Ugh, not even. Dry toast is the limit at this point. I'm about to crawl away and hibernate. I just wanted to touch base and see how things are."

"All is well. Photos are already uploaded and layout is complete. It will be in the book by tomorrow night as ordered. Do you need me to send you your laptop?"

"Nah. I've been ordered away from work until Thursday at the earliest. So I'm taking my comp time and spending it wisely. Sleep and daytime tv for the next few."

"You go, girl. Give a ring if you need anything."

"'k. Thanks Nigel."

"No, thank you for taking one for the team. A weekend with her highness deserves a medal of commendation. I'll get the paperwork started on it."

"Good night, Nigel."

"G'night, six."


End file.
